


Keep Your Enemies Close

by AceQueenKing



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Stranded, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: While abandoned on a planet with Leia Organa, Phasma finds herself confronted with a horrible truth.





	Keep Your Enemies Close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



"You have to sleep sometime," Leia said, and Phasma debated which was worse about her situation: that she'd been marooned on this desert rock, or that Leia Organa had, somehow, found herself exiled here all the same.

The Resistance's General had had the audacity to sneak up on her while she was still desperately trying to contact the First Order, and had held a gun on her the entire time.

"Not in front of you, rebel scum," Phasma growled, though she was tired. She had been on this planet for forty-eight hours now, maybe longer, and hadn't slept a single hour. Why hadn't the Supreme Leader and General Hux called in a rescue squadron for her yet? Surely the Stormtrooper program was suffering without her guiding hand.

"Anyone is replaceable," Leia said, answering a question she hadn't asked. Annoying.

"Stop reading my mind, Jedi dog," Phasma hissed, curling her arms around her legs. The General had a way of making her feel strangely vulnerable and she did not appreciate it. There was an otherworldliness to the woman, a sort of inarguable goodness, that made Phasma itch. She hated her. 

But she couldn't stop staring at the General, either. What was the phrase? _Keep your friends close, your enemies closer._ Yes, that was in. Something Brandon Hux was most fond of saying, before she'd killed him. He was a fool but - it was still good advice.

Leia lowered her gun for the first time in two days in response to the insult. That was a weak mistake, one Phasma wouldn't have made. She crossed the space between them in the cave, and Phasma wished, once again, that she was back on her ship, alone.

Being close to another woman brought back old feelings, long buried; caverns, masks, sand - this island was not so dissimilar to Parnassos.

She'd left that hell-camp behind, though. She would do the same to this insufferable desert.

"I'm sorry," Leia said, quietly, "for offending your sensibilities."

"Jedi witch."

Leia's mouth drew into a wry smile. "You're not far off. I didn't mean to intrude into your thoughts, but given that we're the only living things on approximately twenty-five kilometers of sand and rock, there isn't a lot of interference to distract me. Believe me, your thoughts are ugly enough I wish I didn't hear them."

"Is _this_ why your people left you?" Phasma hissed, a harsh whisper that might as well have been a slap in how much Leia's face visibly contorted. Phasma, however, wasn't satisfied. The hit landed but she tasted no blood. She wanted to go further into the Princess's psyche, wanted to break her reedy little spine like a twig - 

"No," Leia closed her eyes, a weakness surprising to find in one of her pedigree. "I left them."

"Why?" Phasma's tongue was dry, and her voice cracked. Talking hurt. When had she last had water?

Wordlessly, Leia unstrapped a canister and handed it to her. Phasma sniffed it then took a long, lusty sip of water. She missed the helmet, gone in the wreckage of her TIE. The dust and sand had been chafing her face all day; the water felt as blessed relief. If Leia was willing to share, Phasma would take advantage. She was many things, but she wasn't a fool.

"Figured Luke was onto something. My family, we've been trying to change the universe for three generations now, and we've just made it worse. Vader, Luke, myself, Ben - "

"Supreme Leader Kylo Ren," she said tartly. Leia winced, and Phasma's heart soared as her barb landed on its target. She had no loyalty to the supreme leader, but it was safer to play the barking dog, like Hux. It was what Leia would expect, and she would underestimate Phasma for it.

"Point stands. We all fucked up." Leia shrugged as if giving up such power was a _small_ decision. "Universe just kept getting worse. _I'm_ tired. I don't want to fight _my son_ , not anymore. I've spent the better part of my life fighting my family."

"Family," Phasma scoffed. "Blood is far weaker than water." She thought of Keldo in the Scyre, her knife in her hands, and the pleasure she had felt when she had finally proved herself superior.

"You know, there are times I think your approach is healthier." Leia took a long swing of water. "Did you ever regret it, your brother?"

"No more than our mother and father." Phasma was surprised to see General Organa's lips quirk upwards. She'd thought her too holier-than-thou to approve of that. But perhaps she was more her father's daughter than that...

Leia made an odd sound and shook her head. "He was _never my father._ Trust me, if I could have choked him, I would have. No regrets. I was glad he died."

"And if you hadn't _retired_ , would you kill your son for taking up arms against you?" Phasma wondered; Leia flinched. She was silent for a long time, but her eyes scanned the heavens as if she was searching for help.

"No," she said, finally. "But I know that I should have."

"Hm. I believe your son would say you are wasting your blood's gifts, General." Phasma said, rubbing in the pain. 

"If I could purge any of my family's blood from my veins, I would." Leia sighed and leaned backward, settling in on the stone. "Failing that, I'm taking my retirement and I'm enjoying it as much as I can with you around."

"I would never retire," Phasma barked. This General Organa was an odd woman, a strange being that Phasma couldn't understand, and that bothered her more than anything else. Why did she insist on not killing Phasma? Why did she act like they were friends? And why was a part of Phasma almost - almost -   _eager_ for that? 

"I think you _were_ retired," the General bit back. "Fusers don't melt in TIEs if you're someone as religious about maintenance as you are. Unless someone else replaces it for you."

Phasma reeled backward and stood to her feet, furious; Leia, she noticed, clutched her pistol just a bit tighter.

"You lie," she hissed. She strode toward the door, and wasn't surprised to see Leia following her.

"I never lie." Leia said. "You know it as well as I do: the First Order doesn't want you, Phasma. You're a liability."

Despite the howling sandstorm that wicked at her face, Phasma marched out to her TIE. She could barely see the engines, but studied them anyway, blinking through tears and sand as she stared at the melted fuser. It was indeed not the one she'd put in before starting his cursed journey to investigate a rebel ship on the edge of a fractured border they held -

"Come back inside," General Organa said, sounding tired.

Phasma's lip quivered as she held the fuser in her hands. She wanted so badly to crush it, but knew she needed it. She'd get off this fucking hole eventually, and she'd ream it down Hux's throat until he choked on it.

"Your engine is getting even more ruined, with you exposing the parts in this sandstorm. Back to the cave," General Organa shouted, her voice barely heard above the din of sand. Still, Phasma couldn't help but notice how the sand almost wicked around her, as if she was a goddess contorting the elements to her whims. 

Phasma curled her lip and nodded her assent, trekking back to the cave she'd been calling home for the last forty-eight hours. General Organa followed, the gun tucked into one of the many hiding pockets on the General Organa's dress. 

Phasma collapsed to the floor, blinking as something blurred her vision. Tears? No, she could not cry - not now, after all that had happened. Tears were for the weak, it was just - the sand, it stung.  
  
"Hey," Leia said, leaning in close; the whisper made the hair on Phasma's arm raise in sudden revolt. Phasma turned toward her, her eyes narrowed. To think the curr would want to comfort her was unthinkable - especially with the smirking expression the General was showing. "Not so nice when an accident happens to you instead of  _arranging_ them for others, now, is it?" 

" _Fuck_ you," Phasma ground out. She was tired of the General's shenanigans; she looked up, and General Organa didn't even look disturbed from the sand flying in her face.

She raised an arm, seeking the satisfaction of hitting the Rebel's Last and Greatest Hope, but the General did not even flinch, instead making a deft movement with her fingertips that, somehow, made Phasma's arms seize in place despite the General not even touching her.

More Jedi witchcraft.  

They stood staring at one another, an uneasy silence descending upon them both. Why did the Princess even bother with the gun? It was obvious she was more dangerous without it, holding Phasma like she was a caged dog. Phasma snarled, tried to pull her arm back, but Leia held it in a phantom grip.

"You don't understand, Phasma," Leia hissed. "You think you're not a dog to them because you betray everyone you can? You think it makes you a _wolf_ , but it just makes you a stray _mutt_. And there's no glory in that."

Phasma stared at her, feeling torn between wanting to rip the General's head from her shoulders or kiss her. The General gleamed with an unworldly beauty Ren had never had when he used the force; Phasma felt raw power clinging to her, and longed to taste more of it.

"No," Leia said, shaking her head. "You've the potential, but I won't train you. You're too hateful. But perhaps..." Her eyes glittered with an unspoken promise, and Leia took a step forward, holding Phasma's chin. Phasma did not waver.

"I think you could be a true hero, Phasma. You have potential. And all we have here is time." She stroked Phasma's cheek, and Phasma felt transfixed by the General's bright eyes.

"It would be easier if we got along, I suppose," Phasma said, her throat almost dry.

"Very good," Leia said, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her. Phasma's skin crawled; she wanted, badly, to hurt the General, to tear her to pieces and send her broken body to Kylo Ren; she wanted, equally, to love the woman to pieces, to feel her gasp and know that she had made a goddess quake.

Leia deepened the kiss, biting her lip.

Her blood tasted like promise.


End file.
